


Honeymoon

by hakanaii



Series: If it Kills me (verse) [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakanaii/pseuds/hakanaii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gale and Madge go through the trials and tribulations of being newlyweds, but they also know how to have fun too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

* * *

 

Madge wakes to ocean fresh air that carries on a breeze through the open window of their beach side hotel. Shivering, she curls up into her new husband's pebbling body as it raises and falls in slumber.

Placing her whole palm on his lean, olive coloured chest, she can feel him shift. A small groan passes his lips as the arm that rests behind her head grips her shoulder. The tiny noise travels down south, thoroughly peaking her interest.

A smile graces her lips. Stretching up, Madge presses her mouth gently below his jaw, down the side of his neck, until she reaches his clavicle where her lips kneed at the skin covering the bone. His rough, morning voice sings a wanton moan fueling her suctioned lips. While her wandering hands trail further down and around his body.

Dipping down below his waist, her fingers step up his inner thigh one by one dancing around the stiff muscle between them.

"Madge," he croaks as she drags her fingers up and down the hard shaft that lays flat against his abdomen.

Humming, happily, she wraps her hand around him and lazily begins to draw her fist up and down his length. Groaning louder, his dark heavy lids open, a dense cloud of lust swimming amongst the gray.

"Madge…" his tone warns. Looking at him with bright, innocent eyes, she pouts slightest. He folds like a house of cards. Cupping her cheeks in the palm of his hands, he captures her mouth and pries her lips hungrily with his tongue. It slides along hers as it traces every inch of the cavity with urgency.

Not being able to help the moan that rumbles in her chest, she snaps her hands out from around him and places them securely beside his head as she straddles his hips. With his mouth still preoccupied with hers, the slight lift of his eyebrow speak louder than words.

Sitting up her haunches and letting go of his mouth with a quiet pop, she aligns herself with him before lowering herself down again with a gasp. Even after all the years they have been together, his girth is still hefty to swallow.

Slowly, she begins to lift her hips pulling agonizing groans from her husband as he bucks involuntarily against her.

"Madge," he calls, his vocal folds vibrate into a raspy tone as he grasps onto her hips and pushes upwards. "Faster."

Obeying his request, Madge rolls her hips into his quickly, meeting him movement for movement.

She can feel his hands slide off her waist and down between them. Two adventurous fingers snaking further and rubbing slow circles around her clit. Her back arches as hips thrust against his roughly, eliciting a louder string of moans from him and, surprisingly, from her as well.

"Gale," she whimpers, into the crook of his neck as the circles around her clit become smaller and faster.

"Please, more!"

"Ready to come for me, baby?" he prompts, pride laced in his tone.

"Yes," she breathes as their bodies roll together at a snails pace. His sporadic, nonrhythmic thrusts tell her he's just as close. Another rough thrusts of her hips and Gale comes apart, releasing himself into her with a final deep thrust of his own.

Exhaling in satisfaction, he sits up and pushes Madge onto her back with a heated kiss.

Slithering down her creamy complexion, he makes a beeline of butterfly kisses leading right down to her center where his tongue sweeps over the swollen bump. Whimpering without abandon, her pianist hands fly into his hair, holding him tightly as his hot, wet, tongue lapses at her feverishly.

"G-gale.. I-I … ah!" she squeaks."I'm going to - " The electrical current of her orgasm ignites through her body, cut her words short as a gasp takes their place.

Triumphantly, Gale crawls up beside his panting wife and places a kiss on her temple.

"Good morning, darling," he greets with a playful smile.

Glancing back at him, she searches for his hand and weaves them together. "Good morning."

 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

 

* * *

 

Being a quiet person by nature makes it difficult for anyone, besides Gale, to know when Madge is being quiet and observing or quiet and troubled.

Since the moment Madge flashes Gale a smile upon their waking, he knows her silence will be bogged down by her concerns. He very nearly sighs heavily when brushes a chaste kiss to his lips, instead of one full of longing and early morning lust. With two days left of their honeymoon, being worried about that which is out of her control flusters him greatly.

Though, he doesn't mind when she grasps his hand a little tighter or leans a little closer while they walk up and down the beaches of District Four. If her mind weren't clouded, he'd much prefer this Madge, the one that openly expresses her affection for him.

When they trail back into their hotel room, Madge collapses face first onto their mattress. Smothering her face into the down pillow, she lets out a deep sigh. Her white, creamy skin falls victim to the sun as it has been painted a beautiful, gentle, golden brown.

Crawling up behind her, he drapes his body over hers. Hands sliding up the sides of her body, they snake back down and up the hem of her summer dress.

Her moan is muffled by the fabric of the pillow, but he can still hear it loud and clear.

His lips brush against each disc of her spine as he slides the fabric up along her body until it is bunched around her chest. Unlatching her bra, he lets the straps drop to either side of her slim frame as he presses a final kiss to her body, square between her shoulder blades.

"Gale," she moans, the sound no longer muffled but crisp as it cuts through the still air of their room.

"Yes?"

"I… I really like when you do that."

"Do what?" he inquires, cheekily. "This?" he drags a finger up and down along her spinal cord. "Or this?" his lips touch the nap of her neck and beelines through her shoulder blades and back down her spine.

He feels her push further down into the mattress as she shifts her hips upwards.

"Feeling better?"

Lifting her blonde head from the pillow, Madge's blue eyes sparkle with mischief. "Maybe."

The corner of Gale's mouth quirks up in a smirk. His large hands cup around her leg as his fingers climb their way up the back her thighs. Tugging aside her black panties, Gale traces a finger along the seam of her folds causing her hips to snap involuntarily. Lazily, he draws the finger up to her clit for a brief moment only for him to guide it into her damp center.

A well placed kiss to the base of her skull has her crying out his name.

Not caring if he rips the delicate fabric, Gale drags her panties down her legs and undoes his belt and throws it to the floor. Madge's blue eyes, misty with lust, watch him carefully as he relives himself from the denim prison. Unbeknownst, he catches her lick her pink lips.

Uninterested in wasting any more time, Gale guides the tip past the folds before a sharp thrust has him fully inside her. The sound of his name ripping through the air has his sharp movements quicken. He can feel her body shift beneath his as her dainty fingers find their way to her clit, rubbing in those tiny circles he knows she loves.

Leaning over, Gale moves her long blonde locks out of his way to touch kisses along her back as his hips begin to slow. Her breath becomes laboured as the pitch of her moans sing higher.

"Almost there," he alerts her with quick thrusts. Her head bobs as a squeak passes her lips and her body arches in orgasm before falling flat against the sheets. With a final push of his hips, Gale comes undone as well. Collapsing on the bed beside her, his hand finds her cheek and strokes it softly.

"Feeling better, now?" he puffs with a lopsided smile.

"Much," she says, planting a kiss to his lips.

"Good."

Snuggling up into his sweating, clothed body she places another kiss to his neck. "You should kick their asses for not calling and almost ruining our honeymoon."

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as he unbunches the dress from around her chest and kisses her nose, "With pleasure. "

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soundtrack: Mentirosa by Shirota Yuu ft. Shirota Jun.

 

 

* * *

 

The first day is always the hardest. Mornings filled with long, hot kisses turn into mornings where he can barely spare his new wife a peck before bolting out the front door.  
  
When he arrives home after another excruciatingly long day, Gale barely makes it to the family room to kiss his Madge, who sits quietly at the piano, before collapsing into the reclining chair Rory and Vick bought him as a wedding present.

By the time he wakes, Madge is gone, the lights are off and his dinner is cold.  Skipping the meal, Gale climbs beneath their bed sheets and curls around the warmth of his petite wife. He feels her twist under his touch and look over at him with her droopy eyes. Their lips brush against one another’s in a sweet, brief kiss before she rolls back over, holding onto his strong arms that encircle her.

Two weeks after their honeymoon and their lives have come down to this.

Rising yet again with the familiar, droning sound the alarm Gale is almost tempted to shut the thing off, and just enjoy his Saturday morning. But he knows better. His salary is the bulk of their monthly income and without it they won’t be able to pay off even the bare minimum on their mortgage. Madge wanted a two storey house in the downtown core, so he gave it to her.

A short, cold shower has Gale wide awake within moments. Toweling himself off, Gale dresses into a dark gray suit before coming out of the bathroom. The summer sun streaming through the slats of the open blinds illuminates Madge’s face in the most enchanting way. It is as if they are back between the white cotton sheets in the hotel room. The smell of salt of the water fills his nose with the memory making him yearn for their timeless days.  

“Gale,” Madge mumbles as he slides down onto the bed beside her sleeping body.

“I’m here,” he smiles down at her.

“G’mornin’,” she greets through a lopsided smile.

“Morning. Sleep well?”

Her blonde head bobs up and down in a nod.

“Good,” he smiles, leaning across her outstretched body and pressing his lips to her forehead before getting up and heading to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Work.”

“On a Saturday?” her blue eyes scrutinize him.

“There is a conference next week in regards to the prostitution in Panem. I’m almost done drafting the proposal.”

 A deep sigh passes through her lips as her eyes flicker away from him. “Just make sure you come home before five, please,” she requests, sternly.

His face falls as she strokes the top of his hand with her thumb. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you,” she says, letting go of his hand. He wishes she wouldn’t, but she has to.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hawthorne!” Boggs’ voice rings loudly and angrily through his office. Gale’s head shoots up from where it laid tucked securely between mountains of research. “It’s the middle of a beautiful Saturday afternoon, what are you doing here?”

Lifting his head up from his computer screens, Gale looks at his boss with surprise in his gray eyes. “Had to finish the proposal.”

“The meeting isn’t until Thursday.”

"But I’ve still got projects to finish that have been sitting around since before I left on my honeymoon.”

Boggs’ sighs, “I admire your drive, Hawthorne. I really do. But trust me when I tell you it’s too early in your relationship to be putting work before your family. Go and relax with your wife. It’s only two o’clock; you can take her out to lunch or something. Just get out of the office.”

Turning his gaze back to the monitor, Gale begins to close down programs, shut off his computer and organize paper work in “To Do” piles. Boggs’ hums with satisfaction before walking away from the doorway. “I also don’t want to see your face in here before ten o’clock on Monday morning. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Gale says with a grin as he pushes in his chair. Most people complain about the tyranny of their bosses; however Gale would never find himself saying such a thing especially with Atticus Boggs’ understanding nature. He took the time to get to know each of his employees, believing that he is only as good as his team.

Once he finishes getting everything ready for Monday morning, Gale stops by Boggs’ office on his way out the door. His boss flashes him a curt smile and a salute before turning back to his paperwork.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Honny, I’m home,” Gale calls into the house, his voice echoing off the empty walls. He and Madge have not been living in the home long before they married and left on their honeymoon. There are still towers of brown boxes to be unpacked and utensils to buy before the house is even close enough to looking proper.

“Baby?” he tries again, walking further into the house. Through the family room, around to the kitchen then looping back to the front entrance through the dining room before taking the stairs two at a time.

“Madge?” he pokes his head through the bedroom door. The bed itself lays unmade as the sheets remain crumpled up in the middle of the mattress. And atop of the mount, rests the lavender slip Madge had been sleeping in. That’s when he hears faint moans and mewls coming from behind the bathroom door. The corner of Gale’s mouth pulls up in a smirk as he gently pushes open the door.

At furthest end of the luxurious bathroom sits a Jacuzzi tub for two that Madge has occupied all to herself. With her head tilted back against the wall and her eyes tightly shut, she doesn’t see him tiptoe further into the room.

Gale catches the slosh of the soapy bathtub water as it hits the side of the tub following a sound of a sultry moan pass through her lips. As one hand holds the edge of the bathtub, the other pleasures herself thoroughly.

“Gale,” she cries a little louder, the waves crashing more violently. “Gale!”

“Yes, love?” he bends down to breath into her ear. Madge’s body jumps and her hands come flying upwards, causing whatever toy was in her hand to drop with a thud, as her sharp blue eyes soak in the reality of his presence.

“You’re home!” Madge’s face turns a brilliant shade of scarlet as she adjusts her position in the tub.

“Would you rather I be back at work?” Gale inquires, raising a dark eyebrow. Madge shakes her blonde head vigorously.

“No no, it’s just I-I didn’t expect you back _this_ early.”

Gale’s gaze flickers down to the settle water before back up to Madge, “Wanted some more time to yourself?”

She shrugs, as the ridges of her pruned fingers crawl up his hand, along his arm, across his shoulder, up the side of his neck and cup around the sturdy hinge of his jaw. Tugging him forward, Gale barely catches himself on the edge of the tub before Madge devours his mouth hungrily. Her tiny pink tongue licking the seam of his lips, craving the hollow of his mouth. Graciously, he parts his lips in permission making her moan as her tongue dives in without abandon. Fuck, she feels good.

Resting hot and heavy in his mouth, Gale lets out a guttural groan as she sucks on his tongue with fervor. Pushing deeper into her relaxing body, he peels his fingers off the ledge and lifts his wife out of the bathwater. Gale can feel her skin become gooseflesh under his touch as the cool air embraces her. Madge clings to him with all her might as wraps her arms and legs around his body and holding him close absorbing all of his warmth.

Madge is the one to breaks the kiss first “Bed. Now.” She demands, pushing her weight so that his feet will guide them backwards.

“Don’t you want the toy?” he mumbles against the base of her neck as he kneads the plump flesh with his lips. Squirming out of his grasp, she slides down his body and fishes around in the soapy water before she pulls out a large, lime green, silicon vibrator.

“Miss him didn’t you?” Madge smirks as she waves the toy in Gale’s face. He can’t say he didn’t.  Gale can’t remember how many times he made her come the first time she brought it home, but every instance had been better than the last. Since then, they only brought the device out on special occasions. Much like now. Gale never did thank Katniss for making Madge go with her to the store that day.

Making quick work of ridding his clothes from his body, Gale scoops Madge up in his arms and throws her onto the bed with a laugh. Tossing a leg over the side of her waist, he straddles her hips as he takes both of her thin wrists in the palm of one of his large, dark hands. Gale can smell the strawberry scented soap emitting from her creamy skin.  Burying his nose in her hair, he brushes his lips against the side of her head. Then again to her cheek, along her jaw and once to the tip of her nose before he captures her lips sweetly before driving his hips into hers.

A melody of moans chime through the air with each sharp crash of their bodies and descending touch of his lips. Madge’s ankles unlock from around his waist once his trailing lips press against the hardened numb of her nipple. The tip of his tongue swirls around the nub twice before it slides along the length of her dulcet body.

“Gale,” she whines quietly, her wrists twisting in his grip. Letting her out of his grasp, one set of Madge’s fingers weave into his thick, dark locks as he transcends further down her body. He retracts his tongue back into his mouth the moment it reaches an unsuspecting smooth patch of skin. She really was looking forward to him coming home.

“Yes, love?” he asks, lifting his lust filled gaze up to hers. The slight movement of her legs parting wider has him grinning exuberantly while the slick touch of the miniature vibrator against his cheek has his blood pump impatiently.

Taking the toy from her fingers, Gale bows his head back down and draws his tongue up the center of her smooth, wet folds eliciting a wanton cry into the room. Strings of straggled moans float through Madge’s lips with each agonizingly languid flick of his tongue against her swollen clit.

 “Gale! Please, baby!” she whimpers, her hands tugging at his hair.

“Please what?” he swirls his tongue around the bundle of nerves causing her hips to buck involuntarily. “Slow down? Speed up? Make you come so hard you squirt?”

Madge’s response is that of a growl as the apex of her husband’s tongue dives into her slick center.

“U-use the toy.”

“Oh,” he says with mock surprise. Pulling up from between her legs, he turns the spring green vibrator over in his hands. “Huh. And how exactly am I supposed to use this?”

Madge rolls her eyes at her unfunny husband. She is all for teasing and its use for enriching their sex life, but at times like this when Gale feigns ignorance, it makes her want to finish herself off and refuse to indulge in his silent request for fellatio. Worst of all, it reminds her of the time she spent dating Finnick and that is a series of memories she likes to steer clear of while anywhere near Gale.

The faint buzzing of the battery powered toy gives her hope as Gale’s mischievous gray eyes flit between the device and her folds.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” he asks, resting the head of the vibrator at the mouth of her entrance. Her hips buck, bringing a smug smirk to his face. “Or would you like it here?” Gale continues to be an obnoxious tease as he pulls the buzzing toy along the seam and up to her aching clit.

Gasping, Madge pushes up into his hand with a sharp thrust. “Yes! There!”

With a single push of toy against her nub, his wife comes undone with a plethora of harmonious sounds that makes Gale’s cock pulse achingly.

Draping himself atop of his panting wife, Gale peppers kisses along the length of her neck and across her jaw. Avoiding her plump lips purposefully.  Her strong pianist fingers grip around his torso and shoves him so that he lays flat on his back.

Gale loves it when Madge gets impatient. Not only does it take the edge off his own intolerance of things but it usually results in a mind blowing orgasm. Though, where he expects her lips to engulf him into the delectably warm cavity of her mouth, Madge surprises him. Straddling his open thighs, she grabs a hold of his throbbing shaft and slowly lowers herself onto his pulsating erection.

 A hiss passes his lips as his hands fly to their place around her waist, steadying her. He watches her euphorically as her breast bounces with every swift rise and fall of her body. Gale hadn’t realized quite how much he needed to feel the depths of her core until now, as his innards begin tremble, begging for release. With most of his waking hours being spent within the confines of his office, he’d briefly forgotten exactly what it was like to devote himself to someone other than those victim to the injustice in Panem.

Another jolt of pleasure carries through Gale’s veins, barely having it in himself to hold on as his awaiting orgasm, as his name rolls off his wife’s tongue over and over again. He finally succumbs to his desire once her gaze meets his and she blows him a tiny, teasing kiss.  

Sitting up and scooping her into his arms, Gale breathes heavily into her neck as he regains his composure. Even through the heavy, damp smell of sex dripping from her pores, the aroma of strawberries still lingers on her skin.

 “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, kissing his way back up to her lips. Gray shines back at him through her blue eyes as she offers her a gentle smile. A hand of hers pulls through his long, moist hair and pushes it behind his ears.

“I’ve missed you too,” Madge whispers, touching her lips softly to his. Their lips move tenderly against each other as Gale rolls her over and places her back down onto her back.

“Ready for round two?”

Madge flashes him a smirk, “You know it. Just ease up on the teasing, I’ve waited long enough for that long, thick cock of yours to be inside me. Prefer not to wait any longer than I have to.”

“Yes ma’am,” he growls with a smug grin before capturing Madge’s lips in a deep, wet kiss.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry about the two year wait. I suck, I know. Just wanted to say thank you to sohypothetically for the beta work she did so long ago. I honestly wouldn't be able to have done it without her. Enjoy!

* * *

 

Tapping her pen against the college ruled notepad, Madge has written, crossed out and rewritten the same name for the last 5 lines. Madge foresaw having trouble convincing her husband to let her invite Finnick to their housewarming party; it surprised her when Gale claimed he wanted to meet him. Which makes everything a whole lot easier, she didn’t want to have to deal with that challenge along with the stress of accommodating the other 30 odd guests.

 

Like every night for the past two weeks, at midnight, the heavy lock on the front door clicks opens for her husband to trudge through with his broad slouched shoulders  and a sullen scowl on his face. Atticus Boggs has been working his team to the bone trying to get enough information in order to get the Anti-Human Trafficking Bill pushed to a vote and passed. Prior to these past two weeks, they have been making incredible progress until the untimely death of their most promising lead into Coriolanus Snow’s Escort business. Some hope was salvaged when they discovered Catherine Reitz’ brother lived on the floor above her, but that path crumbled before they could step down on it.

 

Madge looks up from her menu of guests in time for Gale to fall face first onto his side of their bed.

 

“I’m not taking your suit to the dry cleaner if you wrinkle it,” she chides, putting her book down on the end table and scooting closer towards him.

 

“Don’t care,” he mumbles into the pillow. “It should be burnt anyway.”

  
“Why’s that?” she hums, tugging at the collar of his blazer, which he allows her to take off. Madge tosses it to the ground mimicking his indifference with the navy blue blazer.

 

“Because being in in a suit for 18 hours a day when all you’re doing is sitting at your desk is uncomfortable and a complete waste.”

 

Pulling his white shirt out from beneath his pants, Madge snakes her hands under the hem then slowly up his sore back until she finds his shoulder blades. Pressing down into the knots in both shoulders, Gale howls in pleasure as Madge massages his tense muscles in slow, careful circles.

 

“Aww babe, that feels good,” he moans, pulling his head out of the pillow to breathe. “But could you do my lower back today. Boggs hasn’t sprung for ergonomical chairs yet.”

 

As she descends down his spine, she pushes along the heated skin until she finds the point that has him moaning with reckless abandon.   
  
“Madgey, yeah yeah right there,” he groans as she applies more force to the circular motions. “Fuck, you should have been a masseuse!”

 

“Really?” she says, leaning down to press kisses onto his shoulder blades. “You’d be okay with me touching complete strangers this intimately?”   
  
The way he hums and haws draws a smile.

 

A gentle nudge of his hips has her tumbling back over onto her side of the bed. She watches him slip his dress shirt over those caramel shoulders and unclasp his belt, before pushing his slacks down his hips to pool at his ankles. His boxer shorts hang loosely over his dark thighs causing Madge to lick her lips. Couldn't he take a day or two of vacation? Reenacting a day from their honeymoon would be nice.

 

Gale pulls back the sheets and climbs under the covers. Grasping a hold of her, he reels Madge in, making her giggle profusely as his fingers gently glide along the skin of her midriff.

 

"How'd your day go?" He smirks mischievously.

 

"Pretty good. I'm almost finished sending invites and securing the menu for the caters. "

 

"How many people do you have left?"

 

"One."

 

"Who?" Gale yawns.

 

"Finnick.”

 

His back straightens beneath her touch "Wasn’t he the one who almost ruined the last few days of our honeymoon because he didn’t call you?”

 

"Yes.”

 

“What makes you think he’ll show up to the party?”

 

“...things are a bit different now. He’s got…more free time,” She says softly.  

 

“Good for him,” Gale says bitterly.

 

“Gale…”

 

“What?”

 

“Is it alright with you that I invite him?”

 

Gale shrugs as he lets go of Madge. "Do whatever you'd like."

 

“You were the one excited to meet him.”

 

“That was before we established that his absence makes you a nervous wreck.” He rolls over onto his side, facing the cream-coloured wall of their bedroom. The rise and fall of his back has her wanting to reach out and curl around him. But the comfort of her arms and cool skin won’t be able to extinguish the flames in his veins.

 

“So, go ahead and invite him since you can’t seem to function without him around.”

 

“I can function without him!”

 

Gale’s slow breathing is her answer.

 

Expelling a heavy sigh, Madge reaches for the phone and dials Finnick’s home phone number. She’d rather leave a message than hear his panting, sex-bedraggled voice coming through his cell.   
  
As the phone rings, she listens to the sheets rustle beneath her. In her peripheral, she sees Gale’s molten gray eyes watching her over his shoulder. One of his hands crawls across the mountain of sheets to find her outstretched hand, his longest finger reaching out to trace the lines along the bones.

 

Hanging up, Madge places the phone back on the receiver, shuts off the bedside lamp, slips beneath the covers and wiggles her way into her husband's comforting body. He warms his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

 

Finnick can wait. She just hopes he’ll be alright by morning.

  


* * *

 

 

  
With chip and dip bowls to fill, drinks to grab and guests to chat with, Madge has plenty to keep her busy. But even with all the hustle and bustle she can’t seem to keep focused on any of it.   
  
She hates to admit it but Gale is right, with Finnick an hour and a half late, she is a complete and utter wreck in his absence.

 

With a deep breath, she gathers up the empty chip bowls. Not being able to ease her paranoia; Madge glances towards the wooden door to the backyard, and waits for him to walk through it. Waits for an entrance that doesn’t come. Scenarios of her ex-boyfriend on a stretcher, in an ambulance, and sitting in the ER flicker through her mind as she pulls her bottom lip tightly between her teeth.

 

The grasp of a hand on her shoulder has her dropping the plastic bowl onto the interlocking patio. Spinning on the balls on her feet, fear consumes her before she registers the culprit. The rapid palpitations of her heart ease as she comes to recognize Peeta’s soft, familiar smile.

  
“Little jumpy aren’t we?” Peeta teases as he bends down to pick up the chip bowl.

 

“Sorry,” she runs a hand down her still-pale face. “I just…” the sound of creaking has her fixated on the door to the backyard but it hasn't moved on its hinges. It's as still as it was seconds before.   
  
Peeta sighs deeply as he drums his fingers against the side of the bowl. "I can understand that you’re worried. But there are thirty-two people here, some with a lot more credibility than Finnick, so it might be better if you focused on them."

 

"I didn’t throw a party to impress a bunch of political bigwigs," Madge bites. “I’m neither my parents nor Gale trying to climb the corporate ladder. This is for me and I’d like it for my best friend to be here and to know he’s not lying somewhere alone, possibly dead.”

 

"If this is about Cashmere you know she died because she was ill."

 

"Doesn't change the fact that she died from the blow she took to the head." Madge could feel her blood begin to boil. "Anything could happen to Finn at any time, just like it happened to Cashmere. Accident or no accident and that’s what terrifies me."

 

Placing the bowl on the table, Peeta wraps his arms around her, letting Madge squeezes him like she would a teddy bear.

 

“I phoned him about twenty minutes ago. He was in his car, said he was on his way.”

 

Exhaling a breath, Madge turns away from Peeta and towards the gate once more. Nothing Peeta could say or do would make her feel better, not until Finnick walks through that door.

 

"Finnick is going to be here this time, Madge. Without a scratch. So just relax." Peeta smiles. "It’s your party, after all."

 

"If I find out you're bullshitting me, Mellark, you'll be in a heap of trouble. "

 

"Can I offer my second favourite hostile friend a glass of white wine?" Peeta counters, backing into the house. Madge can’t say no to a glass of wine. Nodding, Peeta ducks into the kitchen leaving her alone with her thoughts once more.

 

Peeta is probably right though, Madge admits. She has nothing to worry about. Finnick will be here. It’s reasonable for him to be late, he may have gotten off on the wrong exit on the highway or missed the street entirely. There are two Melon Groove Crescents after all.

 

Peeta slams the screen door by accident but Madge shoots him a dirty look anyways as he hands her a glass of wine. With half the glass gone before Peeta can blink, Madge feels the anxiety melt out through her fingertips.

 

"So how's it going living with Katniss now that you guys are the only ones in the apartment?"

 

Peeta's nose crinkles. "Couldn't tell you. I've spent most of my time with Annie. So it’s more or less Katniss'."

 

"Things are going well with you and Annie then?" She doesn't miss the grin spreading onto Peeta's face and that glow in his downcast eyes.

 

"Things have never been better with anyone else."

 

"Sans Katniss."

 

Peeta pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, "She's my best friend, she’s measured on a different standard."

 

Madge shoots him a cool stare. "Are you serious? Peeta, that’s terrible. Isn't she lonely?"

 

"Everdeen, lonely? I'm sure she prefers the extra room to stretch out. She finally gets to use the kitchen," His long awaited voice carries melodically from over her shoulder. She never knew until now how relieving it feels to hear Finnick in person.

 

The scent of expensive cologne mixes with the sweet, delectable smell of freshly baked sweets tickles her nose. Nostalgia makes heart to beat a mile a minute. The closer he leans towards them, the more she remembers a time when she wrapped her arms around his neck, weave her fingers through his thick, bronze hair and pressed kisses to the spots of his body that would lead to fits of tantalizing laughter.   
  
Finnick’s arms wrap around her before she can twist around to meet his gaze. He wraps his arms around her and plucks the wine glass from her fingers before handing her a Tupperware container. Grasping hold of the box, Madge snaps the lid open revealing sugar cookies in rows of three piled on top of each other.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Finnick says around the rim of the wine glass. “Between waiting for them to cool and cleaning up the mess I made in the kitchen, I lost track of time.” Stepping back, Madge scans his turquoise eyes for the lie that swims beneath his supposed truth. But there is nothing there other than genuine, wide eyed honesty.   
  
There doesn’t look to be a scratch or his face, not even a smidgen of foundation to cover it up.

 

“You...baked cookies?”

 

“They’re a housewarming gift,” Finnick smiles. “I had my mom send me my granny’s recipe book hoping maybe Peeta could take a crack at reproducing them. Though, before I handed it over, I wanted to try it out myself. Turns out, half the instructions are in Spanish so I would have had to translate anyways.” He smiles cheekily at Peeta who just rolls his eyes.

 

Staring back down at the box, Madge’s confusion escalates. “Why?”

 

“Nothing says ‘Welcome to your New Home’ like fresh baked cookies.” Finnick continues to smile as he pushes the lid back down on the container, “Especially Abuelita's cookies.”

 

“Thank you.” The corners of her mouth turn up slightly as she watches the way his hands shake atop the box and his eyes dart in a panorama along the lawn like he’s sweeping the crowd for someone. They finally land and linger on a group of Gale’s colleagues standing around chatting animatedly around their glasses of vermouth.

 

“Can I take the container inside?” Madge asks, pulling his attention away.

 

“Let me and I’ll top off your glass,” he says. She nods, watching him run to the confines of the kitchen.  

 

“Told you he’d be here,” Peeta retorts, his eyes trained on the group that had Finnick spooked. “In one piece too.”

 

Madge resisted the urge to snort. Finnick has been in pieces long before either she or Peeta had met him. It’s seeing him still standing without any lesions that is ideal.

 

Finnick comes back out with a glass of water in one hand and a very full glass of white wine in the other one. “So, where’s this husband of yours?” he casually mentions. His eyes still flickering around the crowd, this time refusing to let them sit on a group more than a second.

 

“He’s with Katniss and Boggs at the table,” Peeta gestures towards the glass table beneath the canopy.  “Things look to be getting a little heated.”

 

Madge rolls her eyes. “A day off really isn’t going to kill him. Panem can wait another thirteen hours before it goes back to being saved.” She doesn’t miss the way Finnick’s lips curl upwards.

 

"I guess I’ll have to be quick then,” he mumbles, taking a long drink and quickly making his way towards them. Madge doesn’t miss the way he glances briefly over his shoulder shakes his sandy coif. Tugging her lip between her teeth, she worries. What is he seeing? Is it them, have they caused all this turmoil within him, them?

 

With each step Finnick, Madge and Peeta take, Gale's and Katniss' voices carry louder.

 

"But I can fix it! They just need a little tightening. Dad showed me what to do!"

 

"Katniss, that was eons ago, just leave it and I will come look at it tomorrow after work!"

 

"I said I can do it, Gale, I don’t need your help!"

 

"Katniss I ---"

 

"If the lady said she can fix her own plumbing, let her fix her plumbing," Finnick cuts in with a shrug as he pulls up a chair between Gale and Boggs. “She’s a self-serve kinda gal, and if she doesn’t wanna be… well… I know a man for the job.”  He winks at her, making her face flare.

 

“It’s nice to see Mr. Odair isn’t as stiff as he looks,” Boggs’ hearty chuckle carries around the table along with the loud clap of his hand on Finnick’s back.

 

“I’m only a Ken doll for the cameras,” Finnick laughs, offering his hand to Boggs to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Atticus, big fan. You and your party seem to have a firm grasp on what it means to represent the people.”

  
“Pleasure’s all mine.” Boggs’ shakes his hand powerfully. “My wife will be thrilled knowing that I’ve got the vote of the young man from the shaving commercials.”

 

Finnick grins.“Glad I’ve got her approval. Would you like an autograph to take home to her?”

 

“You’re kind to ask, but this will satisfy her well enough. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you anyway.”

 

“Oh?” Genuine inquiry peaks in Finnick’s tone.  “And why’s that?”

 

“You would make an excellent celebrity endorsement for when we bring the public’s attention to the Anti-Human Trafficking law we’re trying to pass.”

 

Finnick’s calm ocean eyes turn cold as they glance up at Madge briefly before they flutter back down to Boggs, a wary smile on his pale lips. “Ah! I’ve been keeping tabs on that. My condolences for the loss of your lead. It’s such a tragedy that Cashmere should pass so young and unexpectedly.”  

 

"Indeed. It's quite tragic and such an oddity especially when the papers discussed her autopsy, what horrible luck to have wounded her head in such a place.”

 

Finnick hums in agreement, "I read in the papers she’d had bulimia, honestly speaking, it surprises me too that her malnourishment didn’t take her first."

 

"It may have been the malnourishment that caused her to fall in the first place." Boggs shrugs.   
  
“That’s incredibly unfortunate.” Finnick grimises.

 

“Wait. I thought you were friends with her, Finnick?” Katniss inquires cautiously, her gray eyes fixated on his face. Instinctually, Madge takes a step towards him as his eyes silently plead for Katniss’ mouth to shut and never open again.

 

Despite the slip, Finnick’s mask of ignorance doesn’t crack as he shakes his head gently.

“We were acquaintances, we ran in the same modelling circuit,” Finnick says, grabbing Madge’s wine and talking a long sip. “But I have never met Cashmere. I’ve been told she was beautiful, though.”   
  
“Beautiful, really? If she weren’t a sorry looking bundle of bones then maybe,” Gale chimes. “Though it doesn’t really matter since Madge is all the beauty I need.” He smiles up at her, reaching for her hand but she doesn’t take it - displeased with his actions.

  
“She should be everything you’ll ever need.” Finnick’s voice drops dangerously low as his eyes brew with a thundering storm.

 

Gales straighten in his seat, his eyes don’t flare with animosity like she expects, but scan Finnick up and down before settling with careful suspicion on Peeta as he lackadaisically swirls the rest of Madge's wine.

 

“Is it just me, or am I being threatened by someone who couldn’t stop playing dress up long enough to attend his best friend’s wedding,” Gale inquires with a scowl, earning him a firm shake of the head from Katniss and a drawn out sigh from Boggs.   
  
Finnick shines a toothy grin right at them. “I don’t make the rules. My face goes where they want it to go and that’s that.”

 

“Then explain the time off you got the day after the wedding?”

 

“Gale…” Madge warns.

 

"Can't work if my pretty face has a flaw in it,” Finnick replies through gritted teeth.

 

“Broken nose?”   
  
“Oh! Magpie told you.”

 

"I'm glad someone got to it before I did. I should thank them." Gale’s steel gray eyes narrow.

 

Finnick's eyes mirror Gale's glare and his cheeks turn the faintest shade of red. "You can't."

 

"Because?"

 

"She's dead," Finnick enunciates crisply, startling the group. As his turquoise eyes widen, Madge doesn't miss the tears that threaten to stream down his face and dissolve the mortar in his mask. "I'm terribly sorry but would you excuse me? Madge, I can take the glasses in, if you’d like."

 

"Let me come with you though," she says throwing her husband a look of disgust. "So I can show you where things go."

 

"It’s alright. I'm fine. You enjoy your party, Magpie." Finnick smiles lopsidedly, brushing a wavy, blonde wisp behind her ear before heading back towards the house.

 

“You’re un-fucking-believable sometimes, Gale, ” Madge chastises, walking away. Two months in she already wanted to kill her husband. Why would he go through the effort of saying yes when this is how he was going to treat someone she cared so much about. She was hoping for at least the barest amount of civility.

 

“I don’t know how to compete with that,” he mumbles.

  
Her heart drops into her stomach, how could she be so ignorant.

 

"Hawthorne, Mr. Odair has a lot of friends in high places. Making an enemy out of a powerful colleague could have really hurt our cause.” Boggs sighs, pushing the chair back and leaving his seat.

 

"He's still on our side. As long as we stay true to it.” Gale insists.

 

Boggs shrugs. "Just think about what I said." And he disappears to rejoin the rest of his colleagues on the lawn.

 

"You don't think I screwed up that bad, do you, Madge?" Gale turns back to his wife, only to find that she is no longer there.  Neither is Katniss. Only Peeta stands in the same spot.

 

His shoulders roll in nonchalance. "Who knows? Its hard to tell with Finnick. Letting Madge run after him probably isn’t going to help you. You did know they dated seriously in college, right? I think he proposed too. Not sure why it didn’t work out though. Not that it wasn’t for the best or anything."

  
"W-what?" Gale’s stutters with a tinge of fear.

 

"Oh, shit." Peeta says nonchalantly. "I thought she told you. My bad."

 

The cogs in Gale's head begin to move as he makes connection after connection. His face falls and grows pale with every realization. He has potentially made a powerful enemy indeed.

  


* * *

 

 

Madge doesn’t expect to find him actually in the kitchen, sitting on the cool tile with the container of cookies open beside him as he carefully nibbles on one.   
  


“Finnick,” she says softly. Keeping her footsteps light, she contemplates crawling on her hands and knees to cross the floor where he huddles into a corner. “Finnick it’s me.” His eyes remain vacant.

 

With a deep breath, she wraps her fingers around the side of his head. Leaning in close, her lips almost brush against the shell of his ear while she coos, “Honny, it’s your Magpie,” into his ear.   
  


Madge’s heart breaks as Finnick’s eyes snap to her face, still drenched in unshed tears as his hands go limp around the biscuit. It’s like they are eighteen all over again and back by his home off the ocean, kissing his soft, salty mouth and making love to him until all his pain goes away.

  
The diamond ring on her finger grounds her.   
  


Madge throws her arms around his shaking shoulders, grasps a hold of the base of his neck, and pulls his head down to rest on her chest.

 

“I-I made a deal with Gloss to keep her safe and I didn’t,” his voice shakes.“ I was supposed to be at home. With her. If I were there I would have been making sure she ate. If she ate she wouldn’t have gotten dizzy and smashed her skull open.”

 

“This isn’t your fault,” Madge says, running her fingers through his hair. “She was consumed by her disease, anything you could have done would have been in vain.

 

“No, no she was getting better. With talk of the Bill… you should have seen the way her eyes sparkled...they were almost as beautiful as yours,” he says in awe at her own eyes before he pulls away.   
  
“Finn…”

 

“And today... as I was just getting out of my car,  thought I saw Cas with her arm looped through Gaius’. I could have sworn her blond curls swished as she looked over her shoulder at me and asked if I was going to move my feet any time soon. I was sitting in my car for close to an hour wondering if that was real or not.”

 

Giving into temptation, she touches a kiss to his forehead, then his nose but she hesitates in completing the ritual. She can’t kiss his lips. Won’t.   
  


“It doesn’t help that I see her every time I go to bed, take a shower, or cook breakfast…”  
  


“Why are you still living in the same apartment?” Madge asks, pulling away with fury trumping concern. “You need to move out. You’re making yourself sick.”

 

“I can’t. Staying with Peeta and Katniss was risky enough.”   
  
“How was it risky?” Madge ventures, her heart palpitating with anxiety.   
  
“There are a slew of things Snow could do to me if I don’t cooperate. Many of which I don’t like to think about.” A shiver rolls down Finnick’s spine..   
  
“What’s he gonna do cut out your tongue?”

 

Finnick swallows thickly, “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to any of that.”

 

Madge does not realize her jaw has gone slack until one of Finnick’s fingertips tilt it upwards.

 

He’s kidding. He has to be kidding, she tells herself as she waits for him to erupt into laughter but the stony expression on his face does not shift. What the hell has Finnick gotten himself into? How could he have signed that contract knowing he could be dismembered if he slipped up? It can’t all be worth it.  
  
Madge could feel her stomach flip and settle with a strong sense of nausea. She made the mistake of abandoning him once over the petty matter of his occupation and she’ll be damned if she’s going to abandon him again.

 

“You’re coming to stay with Gale and I,” she demands, her hands sliding up his neck and cupping around his jaw so they are staring directly into each other’s eyes. “We have plenty of extra bedrooms. Having you occupy one isn’t going to be a be a problem.”

 

Finnick’s lip curls in a half-smile before falling into a frown,“As much as I appreciate the offer, that’s not a good idea,” his voice drops to below a whisper. “I have a feeling your husband isn’t going to be okay with that.”

 

“It’s fine. I haven’t told him anything more than he needs to know about our relationship.”

 

“Madge…still... I don’t feel comfortable intruding on you.”

 

“It won’t be a big deal, I promise. Until Gale and Atticus pass the law, you probably won’t be sleeping here a majority of the time anyway, so what’s the difference?”

 

Finnick sighs deeply, “What if it doesn’t work? What if Boggs and Gale can’t get the law passed and they find me living under your roof. The government will leave me alone but Snow won’t take my rebellious actions too kindly.”

 

“I won’t let Snow harm you,” she says sternly. “Even if that means I have to call in a favour with Daddy.”

 

“Unless Leo changed occupations over night, I don’t see how could he possibly help me with a matter that has to do with a CEO of a multibillion dollar corporation,” Finnick explains with a thinning temper.

 

“He’s got a slew of connections, Finn.”

 

“So do I, it doesn’t mean they’ll help.” He sighs, tugging out of Madge’s grasp and running a hand through his thick, bronze hair. “Either way, I don’t want you getting any more involved in this than you already are. I wouldn’t know what to do if something happened to you...”

 

Finding his hand in his hair, Madge weaves their fingers together, leaning in a smidgen closer. Her heart flies a mile a minute upon feeling his breath brush up against the skin on her cheeks. One kiss. That’s all. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?

 

“...I-I don’t think I’d be able to survive it,” he stutters.  
  
Madge watches it all happen in slow motion. The way his jutted lip quivers while unexpected tears roll down his cheeks. The shaking ceases once their lips touch. Once his tongue finds hers, it feels like Poprocks bursting on every individual taste bud. She isn’t sure if the anxiety welling up inside her is from the giddiness of  this unexpected moment or the neurosis that Gale could walk in any moment.

 

The screen door slams against the metal frame ripping them apart. Madge knows the fall of her husband’s feet well as he stomps across the tile of the kitchen and yanks her to her feet. Grasping a tight hold of her shoulders, Gale’s gray eyes scrutinize her face until he finds what he is looking for. Madge hadn’t realized she was crying until his thumb sweeps under her puffy eyes and wipes away the tear tracks.   
  
Encasing her in his embrace, he holds her until his arms begin to shake.   
  
“Gale,” Madge squeaks, which has him pulling away. He doesn’t miss it though, the way her lips are a little more full.

 

Mimicking that of steel, Gale’s eyes narrowed as his head snaps towards Finnick who has one of his perfectly crafted masks poised on his face. A false smile, empty eyes and a straightened back as he raises to his feet hopefully will save his skin from the wrath Gale is about ready to release.

 

“The fuck did you do, Odair?” Gale shouts, adjusting his back trying to look taller than the model poised in front of him while closing the distance between them. His fist clenches and unclenches.

 

Silence hangs long and heavy in the tense atmosphere surrounding the trio, so much so that Peeta can feel it too as he walk into the kitchen. Madge watches as Finnick’s vacant eyes flicker towards the new arrivals then back at Gale.

 

“Answer me! "

 

“We were just talking about how beautiful your new home is, even though it lacks an ocean view.” Finnick cracks a more genuine smile. Not much of one though. “Then we got nostalgic and when I told her my Grandmother passed away last year she started to bawl. So I did what I knew would calm her down. If you were in my shoes I’m sure you’d do the same thing.”

 

“No,” Gale bites, his fist shaking from clenching it so tightly. “I wouldn’t.”

 

“Surprising, considering how much of a liberal you are,” Finnick says, playfully. Madge knows this Finnick well, he's enticing Gale in order to take the heat off of her. It’s not going to work though, not like it normally does. Gale’s not easy to ensnare.

 

Something seems to catch in Gale’s eyes as they flicker with surprise for a moment before falling back into a glower.

 

“You’re disgusting,” Gale spits. “Just because you’re some pretty boy who is grieving over your losses doesn’t mean you can take comfort in your married college sweetheart.”

 

“No, it doesn’t.” Finnick plasters on a wider smile in response to the quib. “However,” his turquoise eyes flicker over to capture Madge’s blue ones, “This is quite a unique circumstance. I’ve never had a husband complain about the way I treated their wife before. Maybe I’m spoiled in all my praise.”   
  


Gale forces his lips to remain in a tight line, refusing to humour Finnick by looking over to Madge to figure out the truth. Finnick’s inferring something, which frustrates Gale more. Why couldn’t he just say it? Why did he have to play this ridiculously head game.

 

Finnick glowers then sighs fishing into his back pocket for a folded, sealed envelope. “I’m sorry for giving this to you now, I meant to do it before, but well… like I said, I don’t make the rules.”

 

Gale swipes the envelope from Finnick’s nimble fingers and slices through the seal with his finger. All that rests inside is a check, for a hefty sum, and a blank business card.

 

“I made an agreement with Madge that part of my wedding present to you would be your Honeymoon as long as you travelled out to District Four.”

 

“Like flashing your money don’t you? Gonna pay off our mortgage too?” Gale snaps. “You’re doing an excellent job of making me look useless."

  
There is only so much of Gale verbalizing his jealousy he can take. “A woman like Madge chose you because you can provide for her, despite how useless you appear to be.”

 

Brushing past Gale and Madge, he moves down the hallway to the front door to take his leave.

 

“I would know.” Gale nods.

 

“So, what’s the other gift then?”

 

“When you figure it out, don’t hesitate to take advantage of it,” Finnick advises.“There will never be a time that isn’t opportune.” Gale nods again despite his confusion. “Also, when your wife comes to, let her know how truly a bad idea it is to have me living in your house.”

 

“Glad we agree on one thing.” His lips curl up in a smirk.

 

“We agree on a lot of things, Gale. Just…don’t wait too long to find out what all those things are.” Gale nods again as he watches Finnick reach the doorway and open the front door.

 

“Odair, one more thing?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“If you were planning on marrying Madge, why’d she leave you?”

 

Finnick stares at Gale with sadness. “Not my place to say.” And he leaves, shutting the door gently. He doesn’t bother with a goodbye.

 

Madge brings his attention to her by weaving their fingers together. Grasping onto his large, hand tightly, she leans her weight into the side of his body. Her husband’s strong arm encircles her shoulders, holding her close. She has always been fonder of the woods than the sea.

 

The kiss she places on his lips is far from anything Gale has received since they returned from their honeymoon. He and Madge have been so busy with work and organizing their new home that the chaste kiss had become the norm. However when her mouth touches his and her tongue darts past his lips, into the cavity quicker than Gale realized, he knows something is still not quite right.

 

As per usual, Gale is right to trust his instincts because once Madge opens her blue eyes, they glisten with an unexplainable sorrow and overflow with tears.

 

“Madge,” his voice dips in worry. “What happened?”  He sweeps his thumb across her cheek only to have her shy away from his touch.

 

“Not now,” she mutters, taking a deep staggered breath before joining her guests in the backyard leaving Gale to stand knowing only one thing for certain. He regretted being interested in meeting Finnick Odair for only now he could appreciate the value of Madge’s ambiguity in regards to his existence and their past.

 

  


 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Gale hates being restless almost as much as he hates being caught by surprise. The tossing and turning, the constant flipping of the pillow to the cool side, the indecisiveness, he down right hates all of it! But there was nothing he could do about it. Gale could not get his mind to slow down enough for sleep to overtake his tired body.

 

Even after their guests left, Madge kept quiet and distant. When all was cleaned up, she sat in the den making lesson plans for the up and coming school year. Gale tried to talk to her but Madge’s eyes lay trained on her paper as she gave curt answers, making him want to pull his hair out.  

 

Thinking about it now, Gale can feel his heart race in his chest. How is he going to fix this if she wouldn’t not tell him what Finnick said that truly bothered her. It isn’t possible that she could be that torn up about his late grandmother.

 

Finnick.

 

Gale claws his fingers around the loose bed sheet.

 

He made her cry.

 

Unclenching his fist around the sheets, Gale snatches the pillow from under his head and smashes it over his face.

 

First time he sees her in months and the bastard makes her cry.

 

The sound of her whimpering reaches his ears before he feels her begin to thrash around in the sheets beside him. They get louder and louder with every violent twist of her body. Sitting up, he grabs a hold of her and tries to pull her from her nightmare. But Madge still does not wake until the shrill sound of her shriek jolts her up right. Her nails dig deeply into his forearms as her quickened heartbeat and erratic breathing regains normalcy.

 

Madge’s usual calm, blue eyes are wild as they frantically search the room. When they land back on Gale, tears spring to her eyes upon realizing whatever she had been looking for is not there.

 

“Madgey,” he calls softly, running a hand up and down the length of her back and in through the ends of her hair. She doesn’t register Gale is talking to her as her frenetic eyes turn vacant as they look right through him.

 

“Madgey,” he tries again, this time placing a kiss to her cheek hoping it will ground her. It does as much good as his voice. He watches with bewilderment as her lips mouth words Gale can’t comprehend in the dark.

 

“Madge, sweetie, it’s okay,” he continues, pulling her closer. “It wasn’t real. It was just a dream.”

 

Feeling her body lax in his arms, he takes solace in the realization that his words finally settled in her mind.

 

“Just a dream,” she mutters.

 

“Yes.” He smiles, cupping her face in his hands and stroking her cheek with his thumbs. A smile crosses her face before her warm mouth find his and capture them in a wanton kiss. Her tongue sweeps over the seam of his lips and pushes through without any more warning. Not that Gale minds. Grasping onto her tightly, he weaves his hands into her hair and holds her steadily to him as she runs her tongue along his over and over again.

 

Breaking her hold on him, Madge takes in large expanse of air as her head rests on his broad shoulder.

 

He supposes she may have even fallen back to sleep, but Madge reaches behind him to grab the phone.

 

She manages to get a hold of it, despite his efforts of preventing her from reaching the device and begins to dial.

 

“It is 3am. You don’t need to call anybody,” he claims sternly.

 

“Yes, I do,” she croaks.

 

“No, you don’t. Whoever you need to call will be there in the morning. You’re fine. They’re fine. All you had was a bad dream.”

 

“You don’t know that,” she shouts. “You don’t know that! He could be dead and no one will know but me. He didn’t tell anyone else. He wouldn’t tell anyone else. They wouldn’t understand. Not like I do.”

 

“Who’s ‘he’? And why won’t anyone else understand?” The question is rhetorical as he already has an inkling of where this is headed. He feels his stomach churn as he does not like this one bit.

 

“Because he doesn’t trust them! Not like he trusts me. I’m all he has and I tossed him away,” she begins to tear up and buck against her husband’s hip.

 

“Madge, who?” He asks, his heart palpitating as he dreads the answer.

 

And she stops. Just like that. Her eyes wide, and full of fear.

 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she mumbles. And with those words, Gale lets her rush to the washroom where her dinner comes back up into the toilet. Padding in and kneeling by her side, Gale rubs her back in big, slow circles.

 

“It’s okay, I’m sorry,” he coos, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” she inhales deeply. “It’s mine. I should …” but she doesn’t continue her statement. She wretches once more, barely making it into the porcelain bowl. The fumes add the churning of his own stomach as anticipation of the answer eating away at the lining of his stomach. If she does say Finnick, he truly doesn’t know what he's going to do.

 

“I should’ve done something a long time ago,” Madge says softly, flushing the toilet as she takes deep breathes. “I could have convinced him no, that we didn’t need the money that badly. Then he could’ve been a teacher like he wanted to. He always loved literature.”  
  
“W-who?” Gale asks, but doesn’t want the answer, not anymore. Yet he hopes for something different.

 

Madge puts her head down on the rim of the toliet, eyes closing, her pale lips pull back to mouth the letters he can’t hear. It’s as she’s temporarily muted, but each ‘N’ and “I” are enunciated. He can’t get away from this man. This man that has his wife wrapped around his finger. Did her heart ever belong to his? Was she out to find a cheap replacement of the man who got away? Every fiber of his being throbbed the way too many shots of vodka feels when it passes through the system and rests in the finger tips.   
  
He hates Finnick as much as he hates the poverty his family endured in District Twelve. The fire that burned in Gale’s veins to overcome that poverty doesn’t burn now as he sits in the ensuite with his wife. Is she his wife? Doesn’t feel like it. Emotional Affairs are grounds for divorce after all.

 

Gale’s head hurt, his heart hurt, he wants to cry. Divorce. It’s come to that already so soon.

 

“Gale…” Madge’s voice is soft but he hears it loud and clear against the dark thoughts running through his head. He looks up at her, not realizing he’d been cradling his head - palms wet with tears he’d supposedly shed.

  
“Gale…” She calls again. Fuck her. Fuck her and her stupid fucking feelings for fucking Finnick Odair. How could she do this to him? How could she destroy all those years they’ve spent together.

 

“Fuck off! Just fuck off, Madge. I can’t do this anymore…” He's abrupt as he rises to his feet. How could she choose him? How inadequate did she want to make him feel?

  
“Gale I…”   
  
“NO! No, just.” The words die on his tongue. Just what? What did he have left to say? “I have to go. I can’t be here. Call you boy toy, I bet he’ll be more than happy to take my place.”

 

“Wait!” She cries as she crawls after him as he stomps down the stairs to the front hall.

  
He doesn’t have a plan but he’ll come up with one, he's good at that. Tonight, however, is not a night he can stay here. He can stay with Katniss! She is alone in her apartment anyways. She won’t question it either. Finding that faint glimmer of hope, Gale takes the keys out of the crystal bowl sitting by the door along with his wallet and drives. Drives far and fast, disregarding the tears in his eyes and his shattered marriage.


End file.
